


Undertow

by Omnisocks



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mind Meld, POV Neku, POV Second Person, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Vulnerability, didn't mean to write this i simply became possessed for ten minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnisocks/pseuds/Omnisocks
Summary: You're working on a project neglected to the last minute, although you couldn't say why, and he is next to you.
Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Undertow

You're working on a project neglected to the last minute, although you couldn't say why, and he is next to you.

He's bossy and pedantic and snide enough to shame a billboard into curling up and blowing away, but even still, with you—he listens. A god in your palm, the city in your pocket. Unnatural stillness, breathless expectation, except he's not holding it. He's simply forgotten.

He watches too, and extends a hand when you offer a pencil, reverent, careful, and sets to work next to you, pulling the design out of your head and adding his own touches. You know he doesn't know how to draw, in the same way you know you _don't_ know how to sew or skateboard, but he consciously harnesses that ghost imprint silhouette of muscle memory, the practiced instinct grafted onto the edge of his being and bleeding out into the rest of him. You can only do this when you don't think about it: your walls lowered enough to borrow from the vestigial tendrils of your pacts, but here he is, raw and unguarded and free-flowing, seeping into your/his work, a perfect marriage of creation.

And

Then

The

Dam

Swings

Open.

Any fate you'd pick for him he would well accept in this state, drunk on something you can't see, swamped in the sudden rush of thoughts, the exchange. But you were wrong before about perfection; there is no distinction between the two of you. You couldn't harm him had you wanted; it'd be like placing your hand in an open flame.

He is you, you are him, a thousand tiny glittering universes timidly unfolding in infinitely expanding fractals. Two sets of hands. Two sets of eyes. A black hole, offset, hungry. One art board, rapidly filling.

* * *

When you come to, you've met your deadline.


End file.
